


Today Was Just Like Every Other Day

by Devonwood



Category: Glee
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Doctor Who AU, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devonwood/pseuds/Devonwood
Summary: Doctor Who! AU. Perhaps as a tactile being himself, Blaine thought about sex rather objectively, though he didn’t often show signs of rampant sexuality. In fact, up until the fiasco involving sex pollen and a tailor on Gamma-Alpha Prime, Kurt had believed Blaine was asexual. But here he was, seemingly ready to get it on, and that was probably the most disconcerting part.





	Today Was Just Like Every Other Day

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2011.
> 
> Well, this happened. Title is from ‘Song For Ten,’ by Neil Hannon. Beta’ed by chambergambit.

As far as prison cells went, this was one of the better ones. It didn’t measure up to the masseuse team on Galtran VII, but the large white bed in the center of the room was certainly better than the cockroach infested straw mats on Nasnata. Throughout the universe, there were just as many overflowing toilets and cruel and unusual punishments as there were caviar and in-room movie theaters.

Kurt’s first complaint on L’atond was that the guards had rather lousy aim. He would have preferred to land on the bed instead of the floor-- though it seemed to be nice shag carpeting-- but thanks to a perfectly executed somersault learned during his cheerleading days back on Earth, Kurt came out of the toss relatively unscathed. Blaine, on the other hand, didn’t have such rigorous gymnastics training and instead tumbled ass over teakettle, landing upside down and sideways a few feet away from Kurt. He groaned, but Kurt couldn’t find the strength to feel sorry for him.

“This is all _your_ fault, Blaine,” Kurt snapped, rolling onto his haunches and brushing the dust off of his thighs. “You just _had_ to get us thrown in prison. I don’t know _why_ I even take you out in public any more.”

“Why _you_ take _me_ out in public,” Blaine spluttered, but Kurt pointedly ignored him. There was just no talking to Blaine when he was in one of his moods.

Besides, there were more important things to be doing than complaining-- like searching for an escape route. Every prison they’d encountered so far had at least one fatal flaw that made an escape attempt possible. New New Earth had guards that tended to fall asleep towards the end of their shifts, and Phinaus Beta made the grievous error of not confiscating the sonic screwdriver because they deemed it ‘harmless’. This cell would be just like the others, Kurt knew, though on first sight it appeared potentially more tricky. The room was sealed with a sliding door that had no internal handle. No windows, either-- just expanses of white walls, white carpeting, and fluffy white linens that were already soiled by a lump of Time Lord sprawled across the middle of the bed.

“Now’s not the time for a nap, Blaine,” Kurt hissed, but Blaine barely picked up his head.

“There’s always time for a nap, Kurt,” Blaine said seriously. “Especially when you think there isn’t, because often that’s the time you’re most in need of one in the first place.”

“That doesn’t even-“

“Besides,” Blaine continued, talking over Kurt, “we don’t even know what our punishment _is_ , or what we did to get thrown in here in the first place-- though I have my suspicions that your behavior at the restaurant in regards to your tomato soup may have had _something_ to do with it. That was very rude, Kurt.”

“I thought it was going to be hot,” Kurt protested. “It startled me.”

“Still pretty rude,” Blaine countered. “The waiter seemed very hurt when you didn’t even finish your first bowl.”

Kurt glared at Blaine, watching as he fidgeted and pulled at his clothing. Nine hundred years of space and time, and Blaine was afraid of a human boy with a flawless bitchface. Kurt was about to employ the dreaded raised eyebrow when three loud bongs echoed through thir cell. Moments later, what Kurt assumed was the west wall of the room flickered and revealed three of the native aliens peering intently through what was apparently actually a window and not, in fact, a wall. Kurt gasped and threw himself backwards, falling rather ungracefully against the bed when he came into contact with the edge of the frame. He pulled himself up onto the mattress at the same time as Blaine, both of them collapsing halfway on top of each other in their haste. Blaine started to protest being trapped underneath Kurt until the alien in the middle began speaking in a loud, booming voice.

“Inmates J-101 and J-102,” the native L’atondian said, its words slurred through the pincer-like facial features-- which was even more annoying than usual because it seemed to invade the entire expanse of the cell.“At approximately five minutes after eleven today, several witnesses saw you two engaging in an act that violated Article III, Section IV of our laws. You have brought dishonor to our Goddess, and to our people, and for that you must be charged accordingly."

“Now see here,” Blaine began, and Kurt recognized the beginning of a well-meaning ramble when he heard it, “I’m rather good with time, as it were. Have it down to both an art _and_ a science-- which actually offends both sides of the debate. And I can tell you that at five minutes past eleven _exactly_ , my companion Kurt and I were doing nothing more than viewing the fountain in the center of the Square. Well,” Blaine added, “we also drank tea around that time-- which, if I’m already in jail, I suppose I can say was rather rubbish without causing too much offense-- but mostly we were simply observing.”

“It was not the viewing that was the problem,” the L’atondian snapped, “ but the act of public indecency that you two committed while conducting your _observations_.”

Kurt furrowed his brows, trying to remember everything that had happened. His sense of time wasn’t nearly as refined as Blaine’s, but Kurt certainly remembered the fountain. Blaine had grabbed his hand, pulling him away from a vendor selling apples as he dragged him over to the fountain. During this time of year, Blaine had explained, the fountain flowed with several different colors Kurt didn’t even have a _name_ for as a midday light show infused the fountain with vibrantly colored water. Blaine had gone into more detail about the festival of lights, but Kurt had tuned him out and simply listened to the soothing tones of Blaine’s voice as he watched the lights ripple across the water.  
Kurt turned to Blaine to see if he was missing something important, but Blaine’s face was uncharacteristically pale as he swallowed audibly..

“Oh, Breswal’r?” Blaine asked weakly, untangling himself from underneath Kurt’s body. Kurt tried not to sigh in disappointment.

“Yes, _Breswal’r_ ,” the alien on the left sneered, the action doing nothing to help the hideousness of the large proboscis nose on his face.

“What is Breswal’r?” asked Kurt, feeling like he usually did when everyone knew something but the stupid ape of a human-- angry.

Blaine turned to Kurt, his skin still pale but his eyes still holding their familiar warmth. “Well,” Blaine began, “The L’atondians built their system of rules around not morality, but feelings and emotions. Because of that, they find acts of extreme emotion crude and tawdry. Any emotion though,” Blaine clarified. “Love, anger, sadness.

“Because of this, only committed couples are allowed to show public displays of affection. Otherwise, they could potentially cause a riot.”

“So what does this have to do with us?” Kurt asked, hoping that the aliens were not one of the telepathic species. Truth be told, he’d had some _riot-inducing_ thoughts earlier when Blaine had a bit of cream caught on the corner of his lips.

“I _thought_ the rule was restricted to inhabitants and not visitors,” Blaine said, turning to the L’atondians with a scowl, “but _apparently_ the rules have changed since the last time I was here.”

“As fascinating as this history lesson is,” Kurt said, “I’m still not quite following.”

“When I grabbed your hand in front of the fountain today,” Blaine explained, “we dishonored the Goddess with our profanity, and we have to be punished accordingly.”

Kurt blinked twice, turning slowly to look at the L’atondians again. “Hand holding,” he said acidly, “I was arrested for _hand holding_?! Friends can hold hands!”

“Not the way you two do it,” the L’atondian on the right gasped, scandalized, as he pointed an accusatory claw at Blaine. “He was practically massaging your skin!”

Blaine spluttered something that may have been “I was not,” but Kurt continued to glare at the aliens even as he directed his next question at Blaine.

“So, how do we get out of this mess?”

“Well, it varies by region,” Blaine said. “Some, it’s as simple as community service. One quick trash duty, and you’re done. Others it’s death, but if I’m not mistaken in this one it’s--“

“You must commit yourselves to each other," the aliens said in unison-- which freaked Kurt out, “Declare your love before the Goddess and us as witness in order to appease her for past transgressions.”

“I was afraid of that,” Blaine said, what little remaining color in his face draining instantly.

Kurt wrinkled his forehead in confusion.“What, like get married?” he asked. “We’ve done that before.” Several times, in fact. It was strange, how a marriage always seemed to get them out of sticky situations. Kurt and Blaine were married on five different planets in three different solar systems under twelve different and distinct religions. They chose to ignore the marriages, and Kurt just chalked them up to unusual escape strategies. In fact, other than the fact that Kurt wouldn’t necessarily _mind_ being married to Blaine and all that entailed, the worst part was that Kurt hadn’t been able to plan a single one of them.  
  
Blaine fidgeted as his leg brushed up against Kurt. “Err, no,” Blaine said. “The L’atondians don’t believe in a legal contract for love, yet they do mate for life and have a nearly one hundred percent sustainability rate because of it. No, we need to _cement_ our love for each other and retroactively make the handholding okay.”  
  
Kurt stared at Blaine, not understanding where he was going. He hated when Blaine talked in riddles.  
  
“We need to make our relationship official,” Blaine said, looking even more uncomfortable.  
  
Another stare.  
  
“We need to consummate our relationship, Kurt!” Blaine finally said in one giant exhalation of breath. He clamped his hands over his mouth afterwards like he’d uttered the filthiest swear imaginable, but-- oh.  
_  
Oh_.

Kurt finally got it.  
  
“Are you kidding me?!” he shrieked, flinging his body into a position where he could more easily glare at the aliens on the other side of the glass.  
  
Blaine flushed. “I wish I were, Kurt, but we’ve offended their Goddess. now we have to make it right.”  
  
“We can’t buy Her a fruit basket, or an offering or something?”  
  
“If we don’t go through with this,” Blaine said gravely, “then I’m afraid _we_ become the offering.”  
  
Kurt narrowed his eyes, moving his glare from the L’atondians, to Blaine. “This is all your fault.”  
  
“Hand holding needs two people, Kurt!” Blaine protested. He tried to reach out for Kurt, but Kurt scooted to the other side of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you could just keep your hands to yourself,” Kurt seethed, “we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“But I _like_ holding your hand,” Blaine said sadly after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Kurt smiled tentatively. “I like it, too.” He reached out, wriggling his fingers for Blaine to take, but the loud noise of a throat clearing startled Kurt and made him turn to the aliens in the other room.

“I wouldn’t do that unless you want us to skip to the live sacrifice entirely,” the L’atondian on the left said, and Kurt snatched his hand back.

“I really don’t want to do this, Blaine,” Kurt said, and Blaine sighed.  
  
“I don’t particularly want to, either,”  
  
“Oh, great,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “That’s how you talk yourself into a guy’s pants. Tell him you don’t want to have sex. What a _charmer_.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant, Kurt,” Blaine said, rubbing his face in his palms. “I don’t want to have sex with you like _this_. You’re not undesirable,” Blaine added, blushing. “In fact, you’re pretty, er, _desirable_.”

Oh. Well, that certainly changed things. It wasn’t the sex itself that was making Blaine hesitant, but the _conditions_ under which the sex was to take place. Which meant that Blaine had thought about sex before. Sex. Sex with _Kurt_. His mind reeled, but he tried to reign it back in. That wasn’t _necessarily_ what Blaine’s words meant. Perhaps as a tactile being himself, Blaine thought about sex rather objectively, though he didn’t often show signs of rampant sexuality. In fact, up until the fiasco involving sex pollen and a tailor on Gamma-Alpha Prime, Kurt had believed Blaine was asexual.

But here he was, seemingly ready to get it on, and that was probably the most disconcerting part. Though Kurt had been dreaming about Blaine for months-- even when he still went by The Doctor and Kurt had to crane his neck upwards to talk to him-- Blaine was strictly friends-only. Kurt would take Blaine’s friendship if it meant that he could continue traveling though time and space forever with him. Seeing other planets, saving the day with his best friend-- some things were more important than romance.  
  
“You’re one hundred percent sure this is our only option, right?” Kurt asked, taking a chance and looking over at Blaine, who still seemed rather fidgety on his side of the bed.  
  
Blaine met his gaze. “Unless you count death as an option.”  
  
“I don’t.”  
  
“Good,” Blaine breathed, “because neither do I.” Blaine rolled his shoulders, and Kurt could hear the bones shift and pop. “I haven’t spent enough time in this body yet to fully work out the kinks.”

Kurt spared Blaine a kink-related joke, and instead tried to get back to business with, “So how do we go about this, then? Insert tab A into slot B?”  
  
Blaine looked at him incredulously. “You _do_ know how sex actually works, right?”  
  
“Of course I do, Blaine,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware of how human sex works. But I don’t know how _alien_ sex works.” He looked at Blaine, considering him with squinted eyes. “You have two hearts, what _else_ have you got two of?”  
  
“Just the hearts,” Blaine said through his teeth, cheeks staining red. “And I’ll have you know that my body functions 98.9% like a human’s. Well, _your_ body operates 98.9% like mine, because I’m the one with the upgrades.”  
  
“Upgrades?”  
  
“Time Lord,” Blaine said, tapping his temple with his finger.  
  
“Whatever,” Kurt said, ignoring Blaine as he always did when he got all Time Lord-y and superior, “So we’re compatible?”  
  
“Biologically,” Blaine said, “though I experience things a bit differently from you. Sexually, you know.”  
  
“Why?” Kurt asked, furrowing his brows.  
  
“Time Lord,” Blaine repeated, and Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
 “So we’re definitely doing this, then?”  
  
“Seems like,” Blaine said matter-of-factly.  
  
“No point in drawing it out, right?”  
  
“Right,” Blaine agreed.  
  
“You know,” Kurt said conversationally, “One of us has to make the first move.”  
  
“Mmhmm.”  
  
“We haven’t got all day!” a voice boomed, and Kurt startled as the alien on the left tapped three of his feet impatiently on the ground. Moments after, the wall flickered again and returns to its previously blank slate.  
  
“They’re still watching, aren’t they?” Kurt whispered loudly, though slightly hysterical because he knew it was a statement more than a question  
  
“Probably,” Blaine said. “they’ll need to make sure we do it right.”  
  
“What?” Kurt shrieked.  
  
Blaine crawled across the bed, grabbing Kurt’s hand at the wrist. He leaned forward and brought his mouth scant centimeters away from Kurt’s own. “Relax,” Blaine said. The action was quick-- the words only a gust of air against Kurt’s parted mouth before Blaine closed the distance entirely.

Kurt forgot about his issues with the whole thing entirely as the taste of Blaine overloaded his system-- something like honey and spices, and an indescribable flavor that quickly made Kurt addicted.

Blaine pulled back, flushing all the way to his ears, and Kurt could feel Blaine’s chest heaving across the small distance. Kurt understood completely how Blaine felt, out of breath himself even after such a short amount of time. _This_ is why Kurt never acted upon his feelings. One drag, and he couldn’t get enough. And the knowledge that it was for all the wrong reasons, that they’d both be hurt when this was over-- this was all wrong. Kurt couldn’t--  
  
Blaine’s hands cradled Kurt’s face as he crashed their bodies together. Hard angles met soft flesh, and Kurt let himself go. Maybe this was where their timelines diverged, then-- one last hurrah with Blaine before he was dropped back in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio, and forced to forget the silly man in a blue box who told him to dream.

Well, if that was the case, Kurt was going to go out with a bang.  
  
Blaine sucked Kurt’s lower lip into his mouth almost by accident, pulling it between his lips with a rough scrape of his teeth before letting it go again, and Kurt moaned at the pinching pleasurable sensation. He opened his mouth, slid his lips firmly against Blaine’s, and let everything fade away.

It was easy to throw himself into the kiss. Kurt had plenty of time, long nights curled up in his bedroom, to imagine exactly how he’d press into Blaine’s mouth if he ever got the chance. In his fantasies, though, Blaine was usually more responsive. Blaine was practically limp as Kurt’s fingers curled tight in the soft hairs at the base of Blaine’s neck, his thumb stroking firmly across Blaine’s cheek. Kurt pushed down the hurt as he pressed forward, rocking his hips lightly into Blaine’s thigh. Blaine gasped as if he couldn’t help himself, and Kurt took the opportunity to run his tongue along the ridges on the roof of Blaine’s mouth. Blaine made a choked off noise in the back of his throat before going limp in Kurt’s arms, just holding his mouth open as if that was all he was willing to put into the kiss.

Kurt pulled back, resting on his knees as he tried to control the heavy sound of his breathing. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing,” Blaine said, still fidgeting. Whereas Kurt was flushed and panting, Blaine was calm and collected. Oddly so, even.

“You don’t seem very,” Kurt paused, searching for the right word, “ _enthused._ ”

“Well, that’s because I’m essentially raping you, Kurt,” Blaine said quickly, cold anger fueling his words. “ _Pardon me_ for not particularly enjoying besmirching your virtue when you couldn’t give consent to this.”

“I know this isn’t the most ideal of conditions,” Kurt said as Blaine scoffed, “but let me be perfectly clear that you have my consent. I know for a fact if I had put up more of a fight, you would have destroyed half the city trying to get us out of this cell. But,” Kurt continued, “you have my word that this is as okay as it can be, given the situation.

“In fact,” Kurt added, taking a deep breath, “I’ve been wanting to do something like this with you for a long time. Well, not the imprisonment and forced sex part,” Kurt added, almost as an afterthought. “I thought we would try those bits later.”  
Blaine got a weird, faraway look in his eyes, and his mouth dropped open slightly, so Kurt took that as a sign to continue. “Mostly I thought about spending time together. Going on dates, watching movies, being _together_. You know. _Intimately_.”

“You have?” Blaine asked, a weird tone in his voice that Kurt couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” Kurt said sheepishly. There was another long moment of pause before Blaine’s face opened into a cheek-splitting grin as he leaned forward. His mouth was still shaped in a smile as he pressed his lips to Kurt’s. It was different than the ones they shared before. No less passionate, but like a slow burning fire that curled Kurt’s toes and made him rock into Blaine’s touch.

“I have, too,” Blaine said when he pulled away. “You know, thought about us. But I never wanted-- I mean, I’m so old and I’ve been through so much. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“Look at where I was when you found me,” Kurt said earnestly. “You’ve made me better.”  
  
Blaine leaned in for another kiss like he couldn’t help himself.

“Besides, who said anything about _you_ besmirching _my_ virtue?” Kurt asked playfully, trailing his hand decidedly lower than either of them had dared to venture. He grabbed Blaine’s ass in his trousers, squeezing hard enough to get his point across.

Blaine groaned deep in his chest, the sound rumbling against Kurt’s mouth, and Kurt suddenly found himself pressed down hard into the mattress as Blaine clambered over top of him. It was a race to see who could get clothes off fast enough, full of fumbling and giggling and first time awkwardness as they got their ears caught in the neck holes of their shirts and had to pause to unlace their trainers. It wasn’t the first time for either of them, not by a longshot, but it was their first time _together_ so Kurt felt like he was sixteen again, fooling around with his first boyfriend in the backseat of his car.

Kurt managed to get Blaine’s pants undone first due to less complicated buttons and straps to deal with. He almost felt sorry for Blaine, who was cursing against Kurt’s lips as he tried to figure out which part to unclasp first, until he managed to work a hand beneath Blaine’s waistband and felt Blaine-- hot and hard and _thick_ \-- pressed against the material.

It didn’t take long to discover that yes, Blaine _did_ only have one, and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. It felt mostly the same, which on the one hand was comforting, but on the other was slightly disappointing. Kurt had mentally prepared himself for some sort of weird, alien texture or a sentient, prehensile dick, so the fact that it seemed just like Kurt’s was a bit of a let down. Certainly not _that_ big of a let down, though, because Blaine felt amazing in Kurt’s hand, and he bucked his hips into Kurt’s grip in a way that Kurt had only dreamed about late at night, wrapped in his hot, sticky mess of sheets. Blaine whined pitifully as Kurt began stroking, his movements limited due to the tight snap of the waistband around his wrist.

Kurt slid his hand out after one final stroke and Blaine whimpered at the loss, thrusting his hips forward to try and regain some of the friction. Kurt swatted him playfully on the side and simply used both hands to push Blaine’s pants the rest of the way off his hips. Blaine did a little shimmy-shake maneuver to work them down to his thighs, but eventually had to pull away from the warmth of Kurt’s body to kick them off the rest of the way. In the mean time, though, Kurt finished unclasping his pants, and the look Blaine gave him as he began to slide them down his thighs was totally worth the brief separation. Blaine’s eyes were dark-- more primeval than even the Oncoming Storm and the edge of night before the dawn. He grinned ferally, chucking Kurt’s pants to the other side of the bed and crawling on top of Kurt in one fluid motion that was probably ungainly and awkward, but Kurt didn’t notice because there were only two thin layers between him and Blaine, and their chests pressed together sticky-sweet across expanses of heated skin.

They kissed like that for a while, hands mapping each other’s flesh with roving fingers that scratched and slid across sensitive skin, before Blaine pulled back from the kiss. He didn’t move away entirely, turning instead to place a trail of hot kisses along the edge of Kurt’s jaw. He slid his mouth down Kurt’s neck, nibbling occasionally as he made Kurt squirm beneath him.

Blaine’s mouth fluttered kisses here and there until he reached the juncture of Kurt’s neck and shoulder, sliding his lips and teeth and tongue to Kurt’s collarbone. He sucked and licked and bit, and Kurt knew there would be a bruise there later but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he fisted his hands in Blaine’s hair and pressed him down harder. Blaine complied, only stopping for a second to admire his handiwork before he made his way down Kurt’s body, leaving stinging kisses and bites intended to tease, swirling his tongue around Kurt’s nipple and then blowing on it and watching it pebble before working his way further down to the waistband of Kurt’s underwear.

They were a pair he brought from Earth, simple Calvin Klein briefs that didn’t nearly rival some of the crazy fashion contraptions he’d picked up on other planets, but Blaine seemed to like them all the same. His eyes flashed dangerously as he slid his fingers underneath and Kurt’s cock sprang free, resting hard and heavy against his stomach. The briefs weren’t even all the way off Kurt’s dick before Blaine leaned down and began mouthing at the head.

Kurt had always questioned Blaine’s sexuality-- even when he was much taller and still went by The Doctor-- but the way Blaine sucked cock put all of his questioning to rest. Blaine’s mouth fit around him perfectly like he was either born to suck cock, or had gotten in a lot of practice to make it seem like he was. Kurt kicked his underwear off as Blaine swallowed him down quickly, nose pressing into the thatch of neatly trimmed hair at the base of Kurt’s dick.

Kurt bucked his hips at the sudden onslaught of sensation. He expected Blaine to sit back and sputter, but Blaine just rolled with the movement, continuing the suction as he brought his hands to rest firmly on Kurt’s hips. They weren’t holding him in place against the bed-- rather, just letting Kurt feel Blaine’s presence.

Kurt rocked his hips forward and Blaine moved with it again, groaning as he swallowed around Kurt’s dick. Blaine started thrusting against the bed, and Kurt’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sight. His fingers tightened in Blaine’s hair, pulling him closer, and Blaine groaned hard. He pressed his head up into Kurt’s palms as his fingers dug into Kurt’s hips, hard enough to bruise, but Kurt just twisted his hands in deeper and reveled in the broken noises spilling out of Blaine’s mouth. It sent a shot of pleasure straight to his groin, and Kurt knew this was all going to be over too quickly if Blaine was allowed to keep doing _that_.

“Blaine, stop,” Kurt whined as Blaine hollowed his cheeks. “I’m going to come.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, actually,” Blaine said, mumbling most of the words around Kurt’s dick as he pulled off and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “In order to make this official, we have to engage in penetrative sex.”

And oh-- right. Because as much as Kurt wanted to pretend they were alone and doing this of their own volition, they weren’t.

“So how do we go about it, then?” Kurt asked. “Who-- you know. Does it to whom?”

“You mean who is on the top and who is on the bottom?” Blaine asked seriously. “The giver and the taker, the pitcher and the catcher, the--“

“You know, I’m starting to like you better with your mouth full,” Kurt said wryly, and Blaine at least had the good sense to blush.

“Well,” Blaine said moving right along “most times I fantasize about you fucking into me. But right now,” he added, slinking up Kurt’s body, skin against skin until his clothed erection rubbed against Kurt’s naked one, “I just need to be inside you.” Blaine’s breath was hot and damp against Kurt’s neck, gusts of air swirling around him and making him dizzy with the unsaid ‘next time, we’ll switch’ floating between them.

Kurt nodded stupidly and Blaine grinned, leaning down for a quick and dirty press of lips before he scooted away and began rooting for something underneath the bed. Kurt blinked slowly at the ceiling and tried to regain his composure. Before Kurt knew quite what happened, Blaine returned from his hunt with a condom and a bottle of lube retrieved from God knows where, but Kurt didn’t complain because Blaine was rather quick at slicking his own fingers and moving them down behind Kurt’s cock. He pressed gently against the puckered muscle and Kurt gasped, body arching off the bed as Blaine slid one finger in to the second knuckle.

“Been wanting to do this for a long time,” Blaine said, twisting and making his finger drag purposefully inside Kurt’s body. It wasn’t long before he added a second, and Kurt tilted his hips back trying to get him deeper. “I haven’t let myself feel like this in _ages_.”

“Like what?” Kurt panted, writhing his hips and trying to get more of the sweet drag. Blaine complied, crooking his fingers, and Kurt slammed his eyes shut at the sensation.

“Like I’m completely off balance,” Blaine said. “Like I’m falling and floating at the same time. Like I’m in love.”

Kurt gasped, more out of surprise than pleasure even as Blaine added a third finger. He hadn’t felt this full in a long time, enjoying the sweet burn of the stretch as he bore down on Blaine’s fingers.

“I’m sorry if that was too soon,” Blaine said.

Kurt didn’t know if Blaine was talking about the extra finger or the declaration of love, but he was perfectly fine with both options. “Not too soon,” Kurt breathed out, rocking his hips back and forth, fucking himself down on Blaine’s fingers. Kurt opened his eyes to Blaine staring where his fingers disappeared inside Kurt with rapt fascination on his face. Kurt groaned and threw his head back against the pillow. “Love you, too.”

“Really?” Blaine asked excitedly, pulling away entirely with a grin on his face, and Kurt wasn’t proud of the whimper that came out of his mouth in return.

“Yes, really,” Kurt said shortly, wriggling against the sheets. “Have for a while. Now fuck me, _please_.”

“Right,” Blaine said, flustered. “Yes, of course.”

Blaine plucked the condom off the sheets and fumbled with it, trying to get it open with shaking hands. Finally, Kurt took pity on him and ripped open the wrapper himself. By the time Kurt worked it open, Blaine had already removed the last article of clothing, and Kurt allowed himself a moment to simply stare unabashedly at the newly exposed skin. Blaine made a choked off noise as his eyes dropped to Kurt’s groin, and Kurt realized that he was slowly stroking himself while staring at Blaine’s cock. He’d feel embarrassed about it, but the look in Blaine’s eyes made the apology die on his lips.

Kurt stopped his motions and leaned forward, pushing their bodies together until they were sitting chest to chest. He reached down and wrapped his hand around Blaine’s cock, stroking it twice, enjoying the way Blaine’s head lolled on his shoulders and his hips twitched rapidly back and forth. Kurt rolled the condom down gently, slowly, wanting the moment to stretch out even as he wanted desperately to come.

One it was fully on, Blaine wasted no time shoving Kurt back down to the bed and crawling up the length of his body. He hovered over Kurt, cock pressing right against Kurt’s entrance, and Kurt dug his heels into the bed as he tried to thrust himself up.

“Come on, Blaine,” he said, “just do it.”

Blaine pushed in, then, one long stroke that seated him fully inside Kurt. Kurt could see his muscles straining, tensing, arms flexing as Blaine held himself perfectly still. Well, perfectly still minus the occasional light twitch of his hips. Blaine was waiting for Kurt to adjust, which was more considerate than most of Kurt’s previous lovers had been, but Kurt wasn’t a blushing virgin any more. It wasn’t long before Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine’s hips, digging his heels into the small of Blaine’s back.

“I’m not going to break, Blaine,” Kurt said, eyes bright. “ _Fuck_ me.”

And Blaine did, sliding out almost completely before thrusting back in _hard_ , sharp and delicious. The rhythm became more controlled after that, steady strokes that were just right on the edge of wonderful.

Blaine moved slowly, cautiously, and Kurt had to admit that while it felt great, he needed more. He could feel Blaine holding himself back, muscles tensed, and Kurt simply dug his heels in harder to the small of Blaine’s back.

“Just let go,” Kurt whispered, leaning up to capture Blaine’s lips with his own. That seemed to do the trick.  
Blaine groaned, shifting his hips and adjusting the angle, and it was _perfect_. The slide felt delicious as Blaine pushed in, hitting Kurt’s prostate hard on each stroke, making Kurt throw his head back. Kurt wanted to continue kissing Blaine, touching him, but he had to settle for weakly patting at Blaine’s shoulders as Blaine fucked into him.

Blaine moved his hands from underneath Kurt’s arms, throwing off the balance and rhythm as he shifted a bit to change the support. For a second it looked like Blaine was going to bring his hands to the sides of Kurt’s face, but he rooted them next to Kurt’s ears on the mattress instead, his fingers digging and twisting into the sheets. Kurt would ask him about it, but the shift brought Blaine right against his prostate as he ground his hips, pressing as deep as he could. Kurt came hard, without warning, back arching and muscles clenching as he shouted empty syllables into the air.

It only took two more thrusts and a cry of “Ah, Kurt!” for Blaine to come, too. He collapsed, letting himself go limp as he sagged bonelessly against Kurt. Blaine looked up at Kurt with a dopey grin, and he stretched hit neck out to sloppily kiss against the corner of Kurt’s jaw.

Kurt let him do it for a while, murmuring contentedly under the attention, before he rolled Blaine off to his side-- because while Blaine was smaller, he was still compact and heavy. He heard Blaine shift next to him, probably disposing of the condom, but Kurt didn’t bother to see what unhygienic thing Blaine had done with it. Instead, he leaned back, sated, into the pillow.

Kurt could feel himself being pulled into sleep, his eyes fluttering closed as Blaine snuggled into his side, pressing his cheek against the damp skin of Kurt’s chest. Kurt was just about to drift off when a loud bonging noise echoed throughout the room, making Blaine shriek in an ungentlemanly fashion as he scrambled to try and remain on the bed. Kurt had a similar reaction, though he managed to keep himself upright as the wall flickered and revealed the three L’atondians again.

Oh, right. They weren’t on the TARDIS, or in Kurt’s room on Earth, or any of the many other places Kurt had dreamed about the two of them having sex.

They were on display like horny animals in the zoo.

Everything felt the slightest bit awkward as Kurt dressed quickly, though somehow he was still done faster than Blaine even with all of the complex bits and bobs on his outfit. They signed paperwork, glared at the aliens one last time, and exited the building, but Kurt paid them hardly any attention as he held Blaine’s hand the entire time, silently daring anyone to comment on their now acceptable relationship. If the handholding didn’t clue everyone in, then the slight hobble in Kurt’s step definitely gave them away.

“You know,” Blaine said conversationally, linking his entire arm with Kurt’s as they strolled out of the station, “technically we’ve now been married six times.”

“And you _still_ haven’t let me plan one,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

“ _Everything_ ,” Blaine whispered, breath hot against Kurt’s ear as he leaned in.

Kurt shivered. He had been worried that everything would change after they took this step. That things would become so uncomfortable, they would have to go on their separate ways. If anything, though, Kurt felt closer to Blaine than ever. Other than the new exciting addition to their relationship, everything seemed exactly the same.

Kurt started to lean in and whisper something equally filthy into Blaine’s ear, but Blaine pulled away sharply and furrowed his brows. He stopped in the middle of the road and turned left, then right, then left again, nearly putting Kurt off balance.

“Kurt,” he said slowly, as if he were a five year old child who knew he was about to get in trouble for eating a cookie before dinner, “where did I park the TARDIS?”

Kurt glared, and Blaine’s eyes widened as he gulped.

Yes, _exactly_ the same.  



End file.
